Up until high school, Writing was just my younger brother in a seemingly ever-growing family. He was always lurking around, snooping through my things, and chasing me through the house to ask me about being a big kid or how to not get in trouble. And somehow he always managed to get away with said plan. That contagious crooked smile always won my mother over. You see, my mom is an English teacher, so it was always obvious Writing was her favorite child.
But Writing and I had a different relationship. We had our good days, but for the most part we essentially coexisted. But once you reach a certain age, sibling relationships reach this certain turning point. Instead of simply coexisting, we began feeding off of each other’s attitudes and appreciating one another. I began to realize that Writing was always there for me to turn to.
If I was upset- I wrote. If I was angry- I wrote. If I was in love- I wrote. Writing always made his presence known by shoving a pen in my hand when he saw me feeling these different things and pushed it to paper. He was always there- no longer in an annoying sense, but a more comforting aspect of my life. As I grow older, my brother grows with me. He is maturing, becoming more complex and thought out.
Sometimes I still reminisce about out childhood together and how we made it to this point. Writing was always popping up in my childhood and young adulthood where he wasn’t necessarily always wanted. Writing countless journals, essays and papers along the years made Writing tedious and a hassle to be around. Essays on Shakespeare and physics lab reports made me wish Writing was never born. But writing narratives and opinion essays was where I shined. Even when I did enjoy the assignment, it was still an assignment- usually attached to a due date, which made me not want to do it even more. It was as if Writing was never going to go away, which now I know to be true (but it’s not so much of a hassle anymore). He has taught me more than he will ever know. Of course, I’d never admit this to him, me being his older sister and all, but Writing has changed me- for the better. Writing has given confidence and made me more comfortable and eloquent with my thoughts and ideas. Writing has even pushed me to get off the page sometimes, and into the world communicating with others.
As I moved into college, I vowed to dedicate myself to Writing. To become and English major. He has taught me more than just about my favorite pens and paper, but to know myself and to understand others around me. I will call him when I am down, but also when I am up. He will be with me the rest of my life, and no matter how annoying he can be sometimes- family is family. There’s nothing we can do to get rid of them, but we also cannot imagine living without them.
